


The Usual Adventure

by agentofvalue



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 16:25:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5547230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentofvalue/pseuds/agentofvalue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peggy and Steve's evening gets interrupted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Usual Adventure

**Author's Note:**

> For [charlserik](http://charlserik.tumblr.com/) and the [#steggysecretsanta](https://www.tumblr.com/tagged/steggysecretsanta) exchange on Tumblr

With a heavy thump, Peggy Carter dropped the canvas bag with her tactical gear by the door to her office. She'd leave that mess outside; she didn't need to make the mess inside worse. That was the problem with being the head of the New York office and still going on missions: it literally never stopped. Both sides were constantly piling up. She liked to complain about it, but it kept her busy, satisfied. 

She and Stark were working on something that might add even more. A new way of handling the kind of case they handled. That plan was still in its infancy; little more than talk and certainly the last thing she needed to be thinking about. It was late in the evening when she hadn't been home in three days and someone was waiting. She had at least washed and changed back into her civilian clothes. Making progress. 

Even with the odd hours most of her agents kept, nearly everyone had gone home. There might be a straggler here or there especially from the group that had just come back. With no major cases currently on the queue, the office emptied when it could. The winter sun had been set for hours and the lights in the bullpen were dimmed. It was her favorite time to get real work done. Free from distractions and bothersome question, she could really tuck in. Tonight, she didn’t feel the need to stay. Besides, someone was waiting.

"Don't you dare," said a voice behind her as she reached for the doorknob. 

She turned, a smile already spreading across her face. She leaned against the closed door with her hands behind her. Steve was winding his way towards her through the agents' desks. He even had their coats draped over his arm. It looked like her someone wasn’t waiting at home. 

"I was only getting a few things to bring home. I swear," she said. 

"A likely story." He stopped in front of her. 

She reached up for a kiss, placing both hands on her chest for balance and standing on her toes. She took a second to drink in his scent, his solidness beneath her fingers. It was only when she came back that she realized how much she missed home. Like being injured and nearly forgetting what it was like not to feel pain and then waking up to find it had gone. Coming home was like a sigh of relief and home was wherever he was. 

They were both agents. She was technically his boss, but ran his own tactical team and operated fairly independently. They lived in a small apartment in Brooklyn together. They were apart almost more than they were together and it made this little moment all the sweeter. That’s not to say things were perfect. They were still had their flaws. Neither could count on the other to keep appointments. Work came first for both of them, but they had someone to coming home to. 

His hand snaked around her waist, pulling her a little closer. She slipped out his grasp and opened the door. No one would begrudge her a quick kiss with her husband, but she wasn't getting caught by anyone doing anything more than that. The respect she had earned outside of being Mrs. Rogers was hard fought. 

He leaned casually against the door jam. "Welcome back," he said. “I missed you.” 

"I missed you too. I hope you weren't waiting long." 

He waved a hand. "Nah, someone said you were due back. I used the time to catch up on paperwork." 

"Always so behind," she said as both his wife and his supervisor. 

He shrugged and raised his hands in an innocent, whoopsie-daisy way that didn't fool her for a single second. She shook her head and tried not to smile. 

She ducked behind the desk and started sort a few files to take home. He watched her quietly. The process went fast without interruptions. Her thoughts were already jumping forward a few hours to a quiet dinner and then falling asleep in his arms. 

"Can you stay home tomorrow?" she asked. She had accrued enough work hours over the past few days to earn a day off—well, a day working from home at least. 

"Sure," he said without checking his workload. 

“ _Lucky bastard_ ,” she thought and added two more files to her pile and then stuffed the whole thing into a briefcase. 

"Ready?" she said. 

He nodded and held out for her coat like a gentleman. She stepped into it and then spun to face him. He adjusted her collar as she pulled her curls from beneath it. Their fingers brushed against each other. 

"Excuse me, ma’am?" said another voice. 

Peggy looked around Steve's shoulder to see who the newcomer was. Dante Price was peeking into the office. He was a small man with dark skin and very short, cropped hair. He was the newest recruit, showing great promise if lacking in experience and confidence. 

Steve turned to see who it was too and Price's eyes went wide when he saw Steve’s face. She would have thought the department was used to Captain America being around, but no. She shoved Steve out of the way. 

"I didn't mean to interrupt," Price said with his voice only marginally beyond a stammer. 

"You're not interrupting. What do you have?" she said. 

He had been their point person in the office while on the mission. He had liaised between the field and the intel. department. It had been his first mission and he had done a well enough job. His training officer had only needed to pick up a little slack. He was learning and learning quick, but he wasn't there quite yet. 

His attention still on Steve with his mouth open slightly. Steve was pulling on his own coat and yanking a hat out of the pocket. He positioned the knit cap carefully over his blond hair, shifting uncomfortably. 

"Agent," Peggy said gently. "Eyes front." 

"Sorry, ma'am." Price’s gaze sank to the floor. 

"What do you have?" she repeated. 

He passed over a file. She opened it and scanned it quickly. During the mission she had just returned from, her team had busted a black market of sorts selling highly experimental weapons. The raids had gone too smoothly. There had been minimal fighting and all the weapons they recovered were inactive. Still, they’d emptied three warehouses in three days and apprehended almost twenty individuals. It should be a success, but she had these lingering doubts. They accomplished their goal, but she didn’t think that was the entire story. Someone was pulling the strings and they hadn’t caught that someone.

The file was a report on who might be in charge of the operation. Even though she only glanced at the profiles briefly. Each page had a short description and some grainy photograph or mugshot. It was clear the evidence was flimsy at best and none of them seemed likely the puppet masters. Price waited patiently for her to look up again. 

"It’s not much,” he said. “Just some chatter."

“I’ll take a closer look when I get home,” she said. 

“It’ll keep it. I don’t think it’s pressing.”

“I’m not coming in tomorrow. Are you sure?” 

“Yes, ma’am. Have a good night.” 

“You too. Let me know if anything else comes up.” 

He nodded and retreated. 

“You’re scaring my agents,” Peggy said to Steve. 

“Okay, that is not my fault,” he said. 

“Of course not, darling.” She pulled the edge of his hat over his eyes and danced away from him as he blindly reached for her. “Follow the sound of my voice,” she teased. 

He pushed the hat up and grabbed her around the waist again. 

“Hey,” she said just before he kissed her again. 

“What?” 

“Let’s go home.” 

He kissed her quickly. “Let’s.” 

He grabbed the bag with her tactical gear, stowed it in its proper place, and then they headed for the exit. 

“Do we feel like cooking?” he asked as they walked down the steps in front of the building. 

“We do not.” 

“The Automat?” he suggested. 

While it wasn’t the same since Angie moved to L.A., it was still the best place close to the office. Peggy agreed. They headed in that direction, hand in hand, bracing against the chilly December air. 

A few minutes later, they sat down in their usual section in the diner in one of the big booths where Peggy used to sit back to back with Jarvis. That was years ago now, but it was still her first thought when she walked through the revolving door. She was able to sit facing Steve now. 

A waitress poured them coffee without having to be asked. Angie might not work here anymore, but the staff still knew Peggy and Steve well. 

They talked about their time apart once they ordered their meals. She told him everything that had happened of the mission, only skating over the closer calls. They kept each other informed, but there was no need for every detail. Their work could be dangerous. They both knew and accepted that. He didn’t have much to stay about what he had been doing; there wasn’t much to talk about. She knew the routine of being home. 

Peggy was facing the door, looking out at the busy New York City street through the line of windows. The traffic was heavier; people moved on the sidewalks. She spotted a long line of bound fur trees under a festive tent. There was a Christmas tree stand across the street with fairy lights were hung along the length. The shop windows had been filling with holiday gifts for weeks. Christmas feeling was blooming over the city. 

She watched the stand for a moment as a man hoisted one of the trees up to his shoulder to carry it home. A young boy bounced around him. 

“I want a tree,” she said. 

He looked up. “What kind of tree?” 

“A Christmas tree, Steve.” 

“With lights and ornaments?” 

“And everything that goes with it. I want this year to be special. It’s our first Christmas.” 

“That we’ll be together at least,” he said. 

They had been quietly married by a courthouse judge weeks after their reunion. This would be their second Christmas since then, but last year he had been on a two-month-long mission for all of December and January. She got phone calls at four in the morning, but he was out of the country much more than she was. So, first Christmas where it looked like they would actually be home to celebrate. Things could always change last minute, but both their schedules were still clear. 

“We used to drive to Long Island to cut down a tree when I was a kid,” he said. “We’d borrow a car and strap the tree to the roof on the way home.”

“That sounds lovely.” 

“It was a little tradition. I could always count on at least that one day out of the city. Even when things were tough.” 

He started to tell of the year the car got stuck in the snow. Even though he was still just a boy, Sarah and Joseph had put him in the front seat to steer while they pushed. She leaned her elbow on the table—her Nan would be appalled—and rested her chin in her palm as she listened. She loved to listen him talk about his childhood. It was the time that had shaped him in the man she loved so fiercely. 

The door spun and a group of hefty men tumbled through. She glanced over his shoulder for just a moment at the movement. Her heart skipped a beat. Without moving or letting her voice change, she interrupted his story. 

"Darling," she said and he stopped mid-sentence. 

He raised his eyebrows to ask what. 

"You know that file I was looking as just before we left the office?" 

He nodded. 

"One of the men from that file just walked through the door." 

He went ridged and the half-smile on his face disappeared. "Are you sure?" 

"Let's say ninety-nine percent sure." 

"This can't be a coincidence. We have to get you out of here." 

"I'm not leaving you or these people." 

It was late for dinner, but they were far from the only people in the restaurant. There were a few other full tables, people at the counter, and, of course, the staff. 

"I'll take care of them," he said. "If they are here, they are here for you. Peggy, please." 

She didn't get a chance to respond. The men—four in total—all pulled down ski masks to cover their faces in black fabric and the leader aimed a large rifle toward the ceiling. Plaster rained down at the leader fired upwards. 

"This is a robbery!" he yelled. 

The diner was thrown into chaos. People screamed and dived for cover. Peggy and Steve also ducked. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her down. He'd flipped so he was facing forward. They were crouching down half under their table, watching feet move around them. He used his mass to shield her. It was protecting her and hiding her from view. 

"Stay down, please," he said over his shoulder because he knew what she was thinking. 

If she gave herself up, it would eliminate the charade. She knew their game. This was no robbery. It would turn into a hostage situation and they would try to take her. Maybe they would take a few people. She'd seen it before. Hide the target amid other victims. Cover their tracks. But she'd seen his face. 

Marcus Russo, but she remembered little beyond his name. He was just a name on a list of names. She didn’t even know why he was on the list, what evidence put him there, what his possible connection to the black market. Thoughm, she didn't need any of that to know he was dangerous. 

"You stay down," she hissed back. "I don't think they know you're here." 

"Please," he said. 

She slipped her wrist from his grasp and laced her fingers through his. They held onto each other. They didn't have enough information to act yet. She was tempted to just give herself up. There were a dozen people in the diner and there was Steve. He especially would give everything up for her and she wasn't for a single second going to let him. 

The henchmen made their way down the tables, splitting up groups and moving people around. It added to the chaos. People were crying. She could hear few muttering what sounded like prayer. She could practically smell the fear in the air. If someone didn’t move fast enough, they got hit, adding cries of pain to the mix. 

It was only Steve’s hand that kept her out of sight. 

The waitress who had served Peggy her coffee was the next target, but she knew what was coming and she tried to scramble out of the way. The hulking henchman in his black mask laughed manically and chased after her. The woman screamed and Peggy couldn’t take it anymore. She stood up, letting go of Steve's hand. 

"Damn it," he said under his breath. 

"Leave her alone," Peggy said firmly and loudly. 

All faces immediately turned to her. Marcus—only really distinguishable from the other three because he was smaller and by the large weapon he carried—moved closer. She read the wicked smile on his face even underneath his mask. 

"Ah, we have a brave one on our hands," he said. 

"I won't be intimidated," she said. "Take what you want and leave." 

"I don't have any idea what I want." 

"I have a better idea than you think, Mr. Russo. Take me and let these people go." 

"So," he said as he pulled off his mask, "there is no need for these games?"

She got a better look at his face. He was dark features and heavy eyebrows. His forehead jutted out in a way that made him look like he was scowling at everything. 

"None at at all,” she said. 

"You dig your own grave." 

"Let these people go. I will not fight." 

The henchmen were coming closer by now. Less worried about the collateral damage and more focused on their target. They just needed to come a little closer, getting in better position. Steve was just below her, keeping his face down, but she could tell he was monitoring all movements. 

She could handle herself, of course, but she had back up with her. Even outnumbered two to one, it was these men who had lost and didn't know it yet. It was bold of them to try to take the head of an S.S.R. office, especially one so well trained in the field, but it was foolish to try to take her with Captain America here. But she didn’t want him here. She wanted him safe. 

“I will go with you if you let the others go,” she said, slowly, putting stress on each word to make sure he understood. 

He stared at her for a long pause and then nodded. At the cue, the henchmen started sweeping again, hustling the patrons and staff out the back door. Some ran towards the back, others seemed too scared to realize they were being let go. 

“We’ll go out the front without a scene,” Marcus said. 

Peggy nodded, but she was more focused on Steve still kneeling beside her. 

She nudged him. ‘ _Go. Get them safe_.’

He shook his head almost imperceptibly. She did it again. ‘ _Go!_ ’

He sighed heavily and go up, keeping his face slightly turned from Marcus. He dragged a young man gripping a nearby table like his life depended on it to his feet and guided him towards the door to the back alley. The man’s eyes went wide, just as Price’s had only a couple hours before. Steve put a finger to his lips. 

“ _No, please, no_ ,” thought Peggy. He couldn’t be recognized. 

“Wait,” said Marcus. 

Steve didn’t wait. 

“Wait a minute, who is that?” Marcus said. 

“Just a friend,” Peggy said just a little too quickly. 

“Stop him,” said Marcus. 

One of the henchmen put a hand on Steve’s shoulder. Peggy moved her feet to get into a firmer stance. The deal was off; they were fighting. 

Steve grabbed the henchmen’s hand and Peggy dove for Marcus’s weapon. Their combined surprise worked effectively. 

Peggy wrestled with Marcus for the rifle, both pulling with all their strength because their lives depended on it. She lashed out with her elbow and clocked him in the jaw. It was just enough of a distraction that she got a bit of an upper hand. Enough to get the trigger out of his hands, but not enough to get it into hers. The gun went flying, skittering across the diner floor. 

On the other side of the room, Steve was handily taking care of the two other henchmen. Even without his shield, he fought well. Ducking, diving, throwing punches and kicks. Steve rolled the henchman holding his shoulder over his body. The man’s entire body crashed into the floor and he didn’t get up again. The second attacked with a growl. The fight lasted a little longer, but one crack of a knee to his face and the henchman dropped too. 

Peggy had taken the gun out of play for the moment, but she was still fighting Marcus and the third henchmen. The henchman drew her entire focus. He was able to grabbed her from behind. She smashed her head into his nose and he dropped her just as quickly. She swung a fist into his balls and he involuntarily doubled over. With another sharp jab with her elbow, she got him in the throat. He let out a strangled noise and dropped all the way to the floor. 

He was down, but it was too late. She had entirely lost track of Marcus. 

“Enough,” said his voice from behind her. “You too, Captain!” 

She froze halfway in between steps. Steve stopped too. He was facing her, his eyes wide in fear for her safety. She touched her chest just above her heart as he looked back. 

‘ _I love you,_ ’

She then turned slowly with her hands raised slightly in surrender to face Marcus. His lip from bleeding from her fist and he wasn’t quite standing up straight because of another jab to his ribs. 

“What is the point of all this? What do you think you are going to accomplish?” she asked. 

“You got too close. You know too much. All the usual.” 

“Why?” 

“I was ordered,” he said. 

“Who’s in charge? It doesn’t matter if I know.” 

He laughed. “You are bold.” 

“So are you.” 

“Captain America?” he asked and gestured towards Steve with the gun. “There was a rumor he was an associate of yours.” 

Her heart beat faster even though she was out of the line of fire for a moment. 

“My husband.” 

He threw his head back and laughed even harder. In the moment of distraction, Steve leaped forward. He was too far away to get to Marcus, but he stepped in between the weapon and Peggy. 

Marcus looked back and his eyes followed Steve's height all the way to his face. Her heart sank. She put her hand on his arm. 

"Darling, please," she said. 

"No," said Steve. 

"No what exactly?" said Marcus. 

Peggy was peering from around Steve's shoulder and she saw Marcus' knuckles whiten around the gun. 

"You have a world of hurt heading your way, son. If you just walk out that door, you can spare yourself a lot of pain."

Marcus laughed yet again. "I'm the one with the gun." 

"I stand by what I said." 

"Oh yeah?" Marcus took another dangerous step forward and raised his gun a little higher. 

He was dwarfed by Steve, but Marcus wasn’t a small man. It wasn’t a stretch. He pressed it against Steve's forehead. Peggy was afraid for the first time. Not even Steve could outrun a bullet at this range. She knew what the cold metal of the weapon felt like. She wasn't surprised, but she hate that he was standing in between her. These men had come for her and Steve was in harm's way. Again. Facing a bullet. Again. 

"Please, don't," Peggy said. She was speaking to Steve. ' _Don't do this. Don't protect me. Don't go too hard on him._ '

"I think you should listen to your little wife and stand aside," Marcus said. 

She moved out from behind Steve by a step. "I am no one's little wife." 

Marcus' attention flicked to Peggy just for a second. His gaze left Steve's face for just a moment. Steve took his opening. 

With a swift jab, he shoved the weapon upward. He fought for his life, but the gun went off and Steve dropped. 

She felt a steering, white hot pain in her chest and she lost a grip on what was up or down. Her ears were ringing. Distantly, she heard a primal roar and it wasn’t until she was attacking Marcus before she realized the sound had come from herself. 

Marcus fired again, but she was already too close for the long barrel to reach her. She wrenched it out of his hands with just a tug, finding strength in her panic. She swung it down on his head, felt it crack, and he went down. 

She didn’t wait for his body to hit the floor before she was rushing back to Steve. 

“Steve, no, oh God, please," she said. “I can’t lose you again.” 

She dropped to her knees and rolled him over so his head was in her lap. His clear blue eyes looked back at her. 

“I’m alright,” he said weakly. 

He wasn’t quite alright. He had a great gash across his forehead through his hairline. He was bleeding and bleeding a lot, but he had come close to dodging a bullet as he could. He was alive and he would be okay. 

“That bloody scared me." 

“Too fast for him.” 

She heard sirens. Help was on its way, but she hardly cared. 

She kissed him. He brought his hand behind her neck and pulled her closer. 

They broke apart and she took a deep gulp of air still trying to settle herself. 

“Can you sit up, my love?” she asked. 

He nodded and showed her easily. She pulled a cloth napkin off the nearest table and pressed it to his temple. 

“You’re bleeding,” she told him. 

The white napkin turned red quickly. Head wounds were nasty, but he would be okay. God, he would be okay. 

She gave him another quick kiss and left his side. She went back to their table with their abandon meal and pulled her handcuff out of her coat pocket. Marcus was still out cold, also bleeding from a cut on his head. His injury would be more severe. She hoped he had brain damage. She cuffed him to a table anyway. 

She was moving to the others henchmen when the police came into the diner. She stood up straight and barked ordered. Once she was sure all was being taking care of, she went back to Steve. He was off the floor in sitting in a booth. He had a new napkin to his head. 

“How are you feeling?” she asked. 

“Peggy, I’m going to be fine.” 

“I know.” She clasped her hands together to keep them from shaking. 

“Do you need medical?” asked one of police. 

“She can do it if you have a kit.” 

The office went to find one. 

“Shouldn’t you got to the hospital? My stitches are only good enough for the field.” 

“I trust you.” 

The office dropped off the medical kit. With all her concentration, she gave him five neat stitches without anesthesia. He only gritted his teeth. She was only a little rusty; she had learned how to do this years ago, but she had got good at it. 

The S.S.R. backup arrive while she was working. She gave them orders without letting go and only pausing her work. 

She placed the last piece of tape on the bandage. “There, my love. That’s the best I can do.” 

He caught her hand and kissed the back of it. “Thanks.” 

He stood up. 

“Where are you going?” she asked. 

“You wanted a tree,” he said. 

“Not anymore. Not tonight.” 

“Leave this to your agents. You need to take your poor, damaged husband home and he wants a tree. I’m not letting today end like this. C’mon.” 

“You’re crazy,” she said but went to get their coats and tell her agents she was leaving. She looked up at him as she came back. “But I’m lucky you’re so crazy.” 

“It’s just the usual adventure,” he said as they headed for the door.


End file.
